The dog that bit
by Sylvie Orp
Summary: Concerning a dog and an estate agent.  Apologies to the medical profession.  I know you wouldn't go to pieces even if an Adonis like Bodie came amongst you, but I had to get this one off my chest.


A sunny afternoon. Bodie and Doyle were outside a large vacant villa waiting for an estate agent. They were looking the property over to see if it were a suitable venue for a high level secret meeting in a few months time. Not that they were telling the estate agent that, of course. They'd agreed a cover story with Cowley. He wanted their initial assessment of the suitability of the building.

Ten minutes passed before a car pulled up and a beautiful leggy blonde poured herself out of a sports car. The men raised their eyebrows. She walked over to them, her stilettos clicking on the paving, a file under her arm. They introduced themselves and she showed them round the inside of the large building. She flirted outrageously with Bodie, who flirted right back. Doyle wondered how seriously Bodie was taking this mission. He would be very interested to read Bodie's security assessment after the visit! After a cursory tour of the interior, they all went out into the garden. She said that her heels were sinking terribly in the lawn and she hoped that this drawback wouldn't put off potential buyers or renters. Bodie, being a gentleman, of course had to lend her his arm to help her across the morass. Doyle rolled his eyes and scouted ahead, looking at the height of the wall, how many trees overhung it etc. When they'd seen enough – or rather when Doyle had seen enough – they made their way back to their cars.

Bodie had slid his arm around the woman's waist and was talking softly into her eyes when Doyle saw something shoot past his peripheral vision. It all happened too fast for him to take in what it was, but whatever it was it was headed for Bodie. Instinctively, Doyle yelled and made a tackle on his partner that would have impressed a national rugby squad. There was a confusion of bodies: Doyle's yell, the woman's scream, and Bodie's swearing. There was also the snarl of an enraged dog. It had been aiming for Bodie but, denied that by the interference of the second man, the dog took its anger out on him instead. It sunk its teeth into Doyle's arm and tried to disembowel him at the same time with its claws. The woman recovered herself and took off at surprising speed across the car park to her car. Bodie sub-consciously noted her leaving the field of battle and was glad of it. Doyle was trying to choke the dog with his free hand but with little effect. Bodie had sprained his wrist when he went down hard but still tried to drag the dog off his partner. He also made no impression on it. Bodie flung himself down beside his partner. "Move your hand away, and keep still," he yelled as he reached for his gun. Doyle understood immediately what Bodie had in mind. It's difficult to keep still while a dog is trying to eat you alive, but Doyle obeyed instantly. Bodie shoved the muzzle of the gun under the dog's chin as Doyle looked away. Bodie fired twice with surgical precision. There was a lot of Doyle's arm in the way. Hating dogs, he pumped a third bullet into the dog's chest. Even then, scrambling to his feet, he had difficulty dragging the dog off. Doyle tried to prise its jaws open as he did so. Eventually the bloody carcass was hauled to one side. Bodie now had a chance to assess his partner. Doyle managed a sitting position as he worked out whether he was still alive. He looked a shredded mess and was clearly shaken. "I'll get the car," Bodie said heading off as Doyle breathed deeply, trying to maintain control. It had all happened so fast that it was difficult for emotions to catch up. Bodie noticed the estate agent's car was missing. He hadn't heard her drive off, but wouldn't have expected her to be hanging about. They had made a date for this evening, but he guessed that that was now off the agenda. His immediate concern was for Doyle.

As Doyle waited those few moments for Bodie to bring the car round, he dragged himself over to where the dog lay. Its collar had caught his eye. He hadn't expected it to tell him much, but his copper's nose was twitching. He had the collar in his hands when Bodie ran back to him. He handed it up to his partner. "Well, it's not going to have a name and address on the tag is it?" Bodie said taking it from his friend and examining it anyway. Doyle smiled. "No. It just says 'Fido'," he said wryly. Bodie had to smile too as he dragged his partner to his feet and guided him into the car. Bodie automatically pocketed the collar. He radioed in their situation as he made his way to the nearest casualty department. On the way he complained to Doyle about the violence of his intervention. Not only had he sprained his wrist, courtesy of Doyle, but his suit was now scuffed and dirty. Doyle had also scored a hat trick by blowing any chances Bodie may have had with the estate agent. Doyle told his partner in graphic terms that he considered himself more important than a suit of clothes and a vacant blonde.

In view of the extent of his injuries, Doyle was seen straight away. "Let's get you undressed," said the casualty doctor cheerfully. Doyle didn't like the sound of that so insisted on struggling to get his shirt off on his own. The doctor told him to "pop up on the table". Doyle was incapable of "popping" anywhere but allowed Bodie to help him. The doctor shoved some books and a bag under his legs to aid the circulation as Doyle stared at the ceiling. He continued his deep breathing exercises. The medic asked Bodie his name and whether he was worried about blood "As long as it's not my own," Bodie joked back. The doctor grinned broadly, holding Bodie's eyes a little longer than Bodie felt comfortable with. He dragged his eyes away from Bodie and quickly assessed what needed stitching first and told Bodie to clamp down on Doyle's arm to stem the heaviest bleeding.

"Not broken is it, Mr Doyle?" he called conversationally as he got some warm water and antiseptic ready. _Too bad if it is_, thought Doyle but answered no. The doctor swabbed his patient quickly to get rid of the initial blood to see the damage underneath. "You can move this hand away now, Mr Bodie," the doctor said sliding his hand over the top of Bodie's. It was as though the agent had been electrocuted! Doyle turned away grinning. "Do you have your hands manicured, Mr Bodie?" enquired the doctor conversationally. Bodie glowered as Doyle's grin developed into a chuckle. Bodie's snarled negative cut off any further conversation. This exchange was certainly distracting Doyle from his pain! The doctor began sewing, which took the grin off Doyle's face as the pain took firmer hold. A particularly nasty probe made him gasp. He kicked the books away impulsively, drawing his knees up to his chest.

The doctor seemed immune to his patient's writhing. "We seem to have a bit of debris in there, Mr Doyle," the doctor observed, reaching for the tweezers.

"Doctor," began Bodie, "I'm not one to tell you your job, but I wonder if your patient could have some painkillers."

"Well, he could," mused the doctor as though this was quite a novelty, "but he may bleed to death while we're waiting for it to take effect." He smiled sweetly into Bodie's troubled eyes.

"Fair enough," gasped Doyle, "just get on with it."

Bodie sighed and let patient and doctor get on with it. The doctor eventually fished out part of a canine tooth. "Not one of yours is it?" the medic joked, waving the gory trophy towards Bodie. The man was skating on very thin ice indeed! Bodie kept a close eye on the doctor's stitching so he could get his right hand out of the way before he moved in on it. Once finished, the doctor stood back to admire his handiwork. "Now, let's have a look at your tummy, Mr Doyle."

The doctor refreshed the bloody bowl of antiseptic as the two agents rolled their eyes. The doctor swabbed and applied dressings while Bodie wiped Doyle's blood off his hands and dabbed fussily at the cuffs of his shirt and jacket. Despite first impressions, Doyle only needed a few stitches across his belly. The doctor's hands then moved south to undo the belt of Doyle's trousers. Bodie's hand clamped around the doctor's wrist at the same time as Doyle made a grab for him too. The medic looked confused at this two-pronged attack. Bodie got his comment in first.

"I think it may be an idea to let the patient know first before you start stripping him off." Bodie glowered as only Bodie could.

The doctor blanched. Any romantic notions he may have been harbouring had just withered on the vine. The doctor looked appealingly at his patient, who also looked thunderous. The doctor stepped back from the table. Doyle, reluctantly, unbuckled his trousers and looked up at the ceiling while clinging to the table – and any shreds of modesty he might have left. Bodie turned his back on proceedings. There was a limit to how much he was going to protect his partner.

After a bit of probing, the doctor said lightly, "Well, everything's still there as nature intended."

"Oh, bad luck, Doyle," Bodie said affably, patting Doyle's undamaged shoulder.

Doyle rebuckled angrily and asked the doctor if he'd finished faffing about. The doctor took umbrage and said coldly that he just needed to give him an anti-rabies jab. Doyle sat up. Dizziness overtook his anger. Bodie made a grab for him before he fell off the table.

"You've lost a lot of blood, Mr Doyle," replied the doctor unnecessarily, giving Doyle his injection. "You need to rest here," he continued, patting the table, "for at least an hour or so. I'll find you a blanket."

Doyle refused to look at his partner who, he was sure, would be making unseemly facial gestures. Doyle told the doctor that he would get enough rest at home thank you very much. He cautiously slid himself off the table and made a grab for his shirt. Bodie got there first. He took one look at the bloody rag and ditched it in the nearest bin. Revenge perhaps for his damaged suit.

"Oi. That's a good shirt," Doyle protested.

"Come on Ray …"

"I'm sure your friend will buy you another one," the doctor said. Bodie was sure he emphasised "your friend" but was distracted by the doctor smiling into his eyes, even though the comment had been aimed at Doyle. The doctor, it seemed, wasn't one to give up easily. Doyle dragged Bodie out of the room before events turned to something altogether more sinister.

_I hope you have enjoyed this short tale, dear reader. I shall leave you pondering whether the estate agent isn't in fact an agent of some other kind altogether; whether she was aware of the dog before it was released to do its work; and the significance, if any, of the dog collar which Bodie put so carelessly in his pocket._


End file.
